Having a college degree gave me the opportunity to be...

The words of Jon Secada — “Having a college degree gave me the opportunity to be... well-rounded. Also, the people I met at the university, most of them are still my colleagues now. People I've known for years are all in the industry together.” — speak with the quiet strength of gratitude and reflection. They remind us that education, in its truest form, is not merely the acquisition of knowledge, but the shaping of a whole person. Beneath these simple words lies a deep and ancient wisdom: that learning is not only an inward journey of the mind, but an outward journey of relationships, of connection, and of shared destiny.

When Secada speaks of being well-rounded, he calls us back to the timeless ideal of balance — the harmony between art and intellect, skill and wisdom, individuality and community. The ancients, too, understood this sacred equilibrium. The philosophers of Greece sought not only to train the thinker, but to educate the soul; not only to fill the mind, but to refine the heart. To be well-rounded, then, is to be complete — to see the world not through one narrow lens, but through the wide and compassionate eyes of understanding. A college degree, in this light, is not a mere credential, but a passage — a refining fire that broadens the self and awakens the deeper capacities of the human spirit.

Yet Secada also reminds us that the true treasure of the university lies not only in books and lectures, but in people — the fellow travelers we meet along the way. The friendships and alliances formed in those years often become the roots of one’s professional and creative life, the network of trust that carries us through the storms and triumphs of adulthood. This is no accident. The university, like the ancient agora or the monastery of scholars, gathers seekers under one roof — each searching, each striving, each sharing. Out of that shared pursuit of knowledge arises a bond that endures long after the classroom is gone.

History offers countless examples of how intellectual fellowship births greatness. Consider the story of the Bloomsbury Group in early 20th-century England — writers, artists, and thinkers who met first at Cambridge and went on to shape modern literature and art. Their friendships, born in youth, became the crucible for creativity that echoed through generations. Or recall the Lyceum of Aristotle, where the master and his students walked beneath the olive trees, discussing truth and virtue. Many of those students would one day become philosophers and leaders themselves, carrying forward the flame kindled in their shared study. Likewise, Jon Secada’s university companions — musicians, dreamers, and creators — became the companions of his life’s work, bound together not by accident, but by the shared discipline of learning and the shared pursuit of excellence.

When he says that “people I’ve known for years are all in the industry together,” there is something profoundly human in that reflection. It speaks to the continuity of community, the way our paths intertwine and return to one another. The people we study beside today may become our collaborators tomorrow. The teacher who challenges us may later become our ally. This truth, known since ancient times, reminds us that education is not a solitary conquest, but a shared pilgrimage. The student who learns to work with others, to listen, to collaborate, learns the greater lesson — that success is rarely built alone.

In a deeper sense, Secada’s words also reveal the spiritual unity between growth and gratitude. For to look back and see that the people who once walked with you are still by your side is to recognize that one’s life has come full circle — that the seeds planted in youth have borne fruit in maturity. This is the mark of a life lived in harmony with purpose: to rise, to grow, and to carry others upward with you. The college years, with all their laughter, struggle, and discovery, thus become not a chapter of the past, but a foundation for all that follows.

So let this be the lesson for those who listen: cherish your education not only for what it teaches you, but for whom it brings into your life. Seek not only to master a craft, but to become well-rounded — wise in mind, generous in spirit, rich in understanding. The world does not remember the one who learned alone, but the one who built bridges, who shared knowledge, who turned fellowship into creation.

For as Jon Secada reminds us, a degree is not an end, but a beginning. It opens doors not only to opportunity, but to people — to those who will walk with you through the long road of life. Treasure them, grow with them, and let your shared knowledge become a force of light in the world. For in the end, it is not the diploma that defines the graduate, but the community of hearts and minds that their learning has united.